


See That Girl, Watch That Cat

by iwish



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: ABBA, Apparently yes, Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, F/M, Feather Boas are involved, Fluff, Funny, Mari is stressed, Marichat May 2020, Protective Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Too much sewing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, We stan one Dancing Queen, What do you expect it's Chat Noir, did we really need to put a slut drop in this, terrible puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24371077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwish/pseuds/iwish
Summary: Chat is on patrol, when he comes across a crying Marinette and resolves to cheer her up. Forsooth, hijinks ensue.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 15
Kudos: 111





	See That Girl, Watch That Cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wesel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesel/gifts).



> Hey! So legit the only reason this is rated Teen and up is because of Chat Noir's slut drop (which was only like, 30% my idea, thanks wesel). On that note, credit to wesel (@schemingweasel on tumblr) for the adorable artwork for this fic!!
> 
> This is our contribution to Marichat May 2020 <3

It was late. Later than his normal patrols. Paris glittered darkly as Chat Noir leapt from roof to roof, outrunning the challenges of the day. It wasn’t that he was upset, not exactly. He just needed to let off the excess steam. Tensions in the Agreste household had been running high, and the need to get out had overwhelmed him – hence the midnight sprint across the skyline.

Panting, Chat spotted a familiar balcony and grinned. Since the first time he’d appeared a few months ago, both he and Marinette had gotten used to his habit of dropping in. Though, it was usually a lot earlier than this – she was probably asleep right now. He smiled as he landed and leaned against the railing anyway, enjoying the breeze on his face.

 _It’s always here for you, Chaton,_ Marinette had told him, and somehow, he’d taken her up on it. It was safe up here. A tiny haven nestled in among the rooftops of Paris. Everything around him was quiet, but for the occasional car passing by on the streets below.

His ears caught another sound this time though, quiet enough that his normal hearing would have missed it. Chat straightened, tilted his head – there it was again. A quiet, muffled sound, strangely like a…sob? Crouching next to Marinette’s window, he listened again and – yep, definitely crying. Had she been upset at school? He racked his brain, but nothing sprang to mind. No fights, no stressful akumatizations, no tests for another two weeks. Just an average day, right?

Chat hesitated. Should he leave? No, he couldn’t, not is Marinette was upset. But maybe she wouldn’t want him to know? A louder sob echoed from below, making the decision for him. He tapped on the window.

No response.

He tapped again.

This time, Marinette’s faced appeared. Red blotches surrounded her eyes, and she swiped at them furiously when she saw him, pushing the window open.

“What do you want, Chat?”

“I, uh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “Well I sort of…heard you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh.” The annoyance vanished from her expression, replaced by tiredness. She picked at the hem of her pyjamas. “I’m fine.”

“Why aren’t you asleep?” He asked.

“I could ask you the same question.”

Chat shrugged. “Late patrol. I had too much energy to get to sleep.” Somewhere below them, a bike whirred past. A bird chirped. Marinette sighed, scrubbing at her eyes, then dropped down as she gestured at him to follow.

~

Once they were in Marinette’s room, Chat understood. Fabric littered every surface; scraps of black and purple covered the desk, the floor, even the _walls_.

“Mari, what _happened?”_

“Jagged Stone happened.” Marinette sank onto the bed, the only patch clear from the tornado of fashion, and put her head in her hands. “I had so much to do that I completely forgot I said I’d design a jacket for him, but I’m just so _tired,_ and I haven’t been sleeping and everything’s going wrong and I-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Chat picked his way across the room to sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Do your parents know you’re still up?”

“No, they’re visiting my Grandma and I didn’t want to worry them or anything so I’ve just kind of been here stressing by myself.”

A pang of love for his friend hit Chat as he tugged her closer. She’d been struggling with this, all alone? “It’s okay, Princess. We can fix this.”

“The deadline is _tomorrow,_ Chat. I’ve barely started pinning the pieces together and even when the sewing is done, those rhinestones need sticking on, then the fabric needs distressing and-”

“You need de-stressing.”

“ _Chat._ ” Marinette sat up and glared at him.

“I’m being serious! We won’t get anything done in this state. Hey,” an idea occurred to him. “Where’s your iPod?”

“Now is not the time for your music, Chaton.”

“No time for music?” He feigned offence. “There is _always_ time for music. Come on.” He sprang up and launched himself at the desk, rummaging around in the mess of patterns and ribbons. It had to be here somewhere. Behind him, he heard Marinette sigh in defeat.

“It’s in the top drawer.”

“Aha!” He pounced on it and swiped the screen. Immediately, a playlist of Marinette’s recently played songs came up – Jagged Stone’s new album, naturally. Chat glanced over at his friend (who had flopped back onto the bed), then typed into the search bar and plugged the iPod into a speaker.

~

When the first few notes filled the room, Marinette covered her face with her hands and groaned.

“Chat. Why.”

“C’mon, Princess.” Chat struck a ridiculous pose. “You know you want to join in.”

“I really don’t.” Her voice was muffled by her hands.

“Of course you do.” He strutted – yes, strutted – across the room, avoiding piles of half-finished clothing, to pull a feather boa from her clothes hook. “There’s no way you can resist the power of ABBA.”

Marinette responded by letting out a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream of frustration.

“That’s not even _close_ to the lyrics.” He wiggled his hips in time to the music. “ _Friday night and the lights are low-”_

“Chaton-” Marinette sat up, the rest of her sentence vanishing as she saw him attempt to do a slut drop. “CHAT OH MY GOD.”

“What? It said the lights are low!” He caught her eye and grinned upon seeing the amusement behind her eyes, though she tried to hide it. “Come on, you know you want to – ooh, _anybody could be that guy-”_

“You look ridiculous.”

Chat didn’t reply – he was busy passionately mouthing lyrics into the boa. He danced his way over to Marinette and pulled a scarf from the bedpost, waving it in her direction.

“Absolutely not.”

“I won’t tell a soul. Cat’s honour.”

It must have been his charming smile, because Marinette relented and took the scarf from him. “I’m not dancing though.”

~

“DANCING QUEEN, YOUNG AND SWEET, ONLY SEVENTEEN.”

Within just two minutes, the dancing had proven contagious; Marinette was on the bed, dancing along to ABBA at midnight.

“DANCING QUEEN, FEEL THE BEAT FROM THE TAMBOURINE – _OH YEAHH.”_ Chat was having the time of his life – Marinette had thrown him a frilly dressing gown to wear as a robe and he was _owning_ it.

“YOU CAN DANCE.” Marinette struck a pose.

“YOU CAN JIVE.” Chat joined her on the bed.

“HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE, _OOO,_ SEE THAT GIRL!” Marinette shimmied like no one had ever shimmied before.

“WATCH THAT SCENE.” She pointed at Chat, as he did quite possibly the greatest air-guitar solo in his career.

“DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEEEEEEEEN.”

Together, they struck the most powerful ending pose Marinette’s bedroom had ever seen, before catching each other’s eyes and promptly collapsing onto the bed in a fit of hysterical laughter.

~

Once they’d lain there together for half an hour, and Chat had deemed her sufficiently de-stressed, Marinette had continued with her sewing. He’d stayed, of course – he was determined to keep her company through the night.

She bit a piece of thread to break it, turning to where he was still curled up in her dressing gown on the bed. “Okay Chaton, I’m nearly there.”

He made a tired cheering noise in response, cut off halfway by a yawn. Her lamp was bathing the room in a warm glow and it was proving difficult to stay awake.

Marinette laughed. “I promise I’ll go to sleep the second I’m done. You don’t have to stay.”

“I wanted to. You don’t deserve to be stressed out all on your own. Besides,” he grinned, “who else would let me play dress up in their pyjamas?”

They both chuckled, then lapsed into a companionable silence. Marinette brushed dust from the shoulder of the jacket and cleared her throat. “Thank you for all this, by the way. You didn’t have to – well, for checking up on me, and cheering me up and-” a blush tinged her cheeks. “Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime, Princess.”

~

Fifteen minutes later, she was done. “Oh, thank God.” Marinette stretched, cracking her shoulders. “Okay Chaton, time for you to go home and sleep yourself.”

When there was no response, she turned around in surprise - and smiled. Curled up and passed out on the bed (still wearing her dressing gown), was Chat Noir. With a suppressed giggle, Marinette snuggled down next to him and pulled a cover over them both.

“Sleep well, mon petit chaton.”


End file.
